Heartbeat
by tailor31415
Summary: "Does your heart ever speak to you?" "It tells me secrets. It tells me what yours tells you." Loki locked it away, deep down inside, long ago. But it was still there, a constant reminder, an incessant chorus, of the fact he would never stop loving Thor. Warning: Descriptions of violence/torture


A/N: There are graphic descriptions of torture/wounds in this fic, so, if that's squicky for you, please be ware.

* * *

Loki could not identify the exact moment he began to love Thor. Perhaps it was when he was watching him, golden and perfect, on the training grounds one afternoon. Perhaps it was when their eyes met across the table at dinner one night and Thor winked at him in a moment of fraternity.

But, he could pinpoint the first moment his heart told him that he, in fact, loved Thor. He was staring across the hall at a feast, watching Thor laugh and speak with his loyal comrades and his heart beat a single 'Love him' in his ears.

He had started, shocking the guests seated with him, and quickly excused himself from the feast. In his room, he collapsed on the bed, knees weak, and pressed his palms to his eyes. The heartbeat in his ears continued proclaiming his feelings, for only him to hear.

Thor was his brother and, while Loki knew admiration and loyalty and, and even obsession were all things brothers could feel for each other, there was one thing they could not. Love, this kind of passionate love, he could not feel this for Thor. Even if other Asgardians said nothing against such relations – in fact, he knew of several immediate family members in relationships such as these – Thor, Golden Prince of Asgard, could never…Loki could never sully him with such a thing.

He chewed at his lip, hearing the words sounding again and again in his head with every throb of his heart. Opening his mouth slowly, feeling his lips tremble, he said softly, "I love Thor." Shuddering, Loki stretched one hand out in front of his chest, fingers glowing with a gathering incantation.

'Love him,' his heart protested, louder and quicker now as he pulled his hand towards his chest. 'Lovehimlovehimlove– ' His heart froze for a moment as he pressed the spell down and in and then it began again, softer now, more bearable. Smiling slightly, feeling his lips pull in the shape of a grimace instead, Loki opened his mouth and declared, "I l –" The words caught in his throat and the spell tugged at his chest, keeping the phrase locked in.

* * *

Loki stared up at Thor from the edge of the bridge, heart screaming as loudly in his ears as the day he had cast the spell, so long ago. But, even now that he knew they were not truly brothers by blood, Loki knew, with the utmost certainty, that his actions had thrown a rift between himself and Thor that could never be repaired. Thor would never love him, not as Loki, even now, loved him.

He had allowed centuries of guilt and grief to twist his mind, driving him mad until all that he allowed to remain in his mind was rage and obsession towards Thor, towards his 'father,' towards the Norns for the cruelty of his fate.

But, now, he could feel the fog of those emotions clearing from his mind, leaving him with only a deep, deep regret. Loki stared up at Thor, his heart shouting, 'Lovehimlovehimlovehim' gleefully and he knew that he had to make reparations for his actions. Loki let go.

* * *

What he fell to…what he fell through, he knew they were things not even Odin All-Father could claim to understand or master. As he fell, though he sometimes forgot he was falling, he was surrounded by a soul-wrenching despair, an over-arching feeling of helplessness that filled him and leaked out of him and leaked into him.

He wept, he screamed, he ran his hands through his hair and across his face until he could imagine he could feel something other than sorrow and agony. His heart sobbed all the while for what he had lost, for what he would never have – for he knew he would never see Thor again – a resounding chorus of 'Love him' through times when the darkness surrounded him so thoroughly he thought he was blind. Not even his magic was accessible, it was trapped under his skin, barely even responding to his calls, to his attempts to form light or sound, or call for aid, to call for Thor.

When he landed, with a crack of his skull against hard rock that he thought he would never feel again, Loki was stunned into inaction. He was captured easily, pulled to kneel on the unforgiving stone, hands wrenched behind his back and hair pulled until he was facing a creature that leaked malice like a miasma. They stared at each other for a long moment and then the other stated slowly, "You are an interesting one. So full of power and potential. Tell me, where are you from?"

Loki sealed his lips tight against each other, heart calling its steady familiar line.

* * *

This, this was not pain, Loki thought, feeling the press of a brand to the underside of his foot. He was well-versed in pain; as Prince of Asgard, one must be.

Pain was the endless drop, drop, drop of venom in his eyes as he writhed against bonds that, with every tug, produced cries of 'Father, help me!'

Pain was pushing an eight-legged horse from his labor-weary body.

Pain was trying to scream through bound lips.

He lolled his head back, floating above the pain as he taught himself long ago, as his fingers were broken one by one.

He could feel that his magic was beginning to fail, exhausted from healing wounds without end. This world was not one that allowed him to replenish his stores easily. Instead of lending him strength, this place seemed to drain it from him, reminding him of a swamp he once marched across, that sucked boots from feet and horses from riders unceasingly.

His heart was racing in his chest, a constant litany of 'Love him, love him, love him' that he was accustomed to after so many years, but it was faster now, racing so quickly he could barely make out the words.

He was strung up, suspended by spread arms and tied by wrist and throat. He could feel the blood, slick and wet, on his back as he was flayed, slowly and surely. 'Love him' the blood sighed, dripping down his back with the beating of his heart, 'Love him.'

Loki could bear this pain. The sharp piercing and then the long, steady pull, the shrieking of nerves as they were severed from his flesh. It wasn't long before the flaying stopped, and he could feel a sting on muscles and ligaments that should never be exposed to air. He could bear this pain, he told himself, feeling his body contort as he was released from the bonds.

But, this…he could barely suck in a breath. The wheel was turned again and his shoulders, his knees, his elbows, his ribs, his hips, they all shrieked and groaned, stretched beyond bearing. He could hear the pops of dislocation all over his body and then it was only ligaments that were holding on to his limbs. He felt, as his magic struggled and struggled to heal him and keep him alive, something in his chest pop as well – not physically, but…but…

His eyes fluttered open wide and he let out a desperate sound, all he could manage in his position.

The wheel turned again, oh-so-slowly, and the shackles holding his wrists and ankles growing slick with blood. His heart thudded against his stretched-thin skin, shouting 'Lovehimlovehimlovehim' loud into his ears as he struggled to draw a breath. A scream tore out from his throat before he could swallow it down: "Thor!"

Silence fell around him, 'Love him…' sounding desperately in his ears, and then there was a loud, clear, heavy laugh. He shuddered at the sound of it, only his head and fingers able to twitch from his position on the rack. "Thor is it," the voice probed, a hand coming to rest on a throbbing shoulder. "Good." There was a long pause and then footsteps sounded, growing faint as the voice's owner moved away. "Keep him on the rack until I call," he added from a distance.

Loki's world dissolved into pain.

* * *

Loki would do anything he said, anything; Loki knew, with every bit of certainty, that he could kill Thor, would kill Thor, if Loki did not obey him. So Loki agreed to find the Tesseract, he played the role of spurned royal wishing for the throne, any throne, though in his heart he merely wished the sacrifice of his free will would save the Thor's life.

He barely had enough strength to keep his body from revealing his lies, but with his meager supply of magic, he managed to numb himself to his pain – not enough strength to heal himself, but enough to put the wounds in a type of stasis – and keep his heart from racing as he spoke to this being. Loki knew, though, that from now on, at all times, he could be monitored, watched. And now, along with the shouting of his heart, there was a whisper in his mind of 'He could be listening.'

Landing on Midgard was devastating to his small reserves of strength. However, Midgard was a realm from which he could draw magic, slowly, far too slowly, but enough that he would not perish before he could end his 'mission.'

It took careful consideration but, with a warmth in his chest from a reminder that he could feel something besides pain – 'Lovehimlovehimlovehimlovehim' – Loki managed to plant the suggestion in the Selvig man's mind that something could be done, a 'fail-safe' – as the Midgardian thought of it – could be put in place to destroy the planned Tesseract gate.

'He could be listening,' his mind whispered as he spoke to the Midgardians in the place called Germany. 'He could be listening,' it said as he fought with the Captain and the Man of Iron, dropping his hold on his wounds to erect shaky, easily-destroyed doubles.

'He could be listening,' it protested when he dropped his defenses and allowed himself to be captured. It was a relief to focus his attentions back on his body – to the blood dripping down his back and the blistering of the burn on the sole of his foot, to the throb in his broken fingers and the ache in his cracked ribs, to the unbearable soreness in all of his joints.

When his body was so thoroughly and completely thrashed by the man-monster's attack, Loki could barely cling to his spells, barely cling to the only things keeping him alive and breathing. It was easy – though he could not feel the joy he wanted to through the agony that was rippling through his body – to admit defeat then, even though his mind desperately screamed, 'He could be listening!' because this loss was one he would not need to lie to explain. He was beaten, willingly, and was happy to accept the mask they slipped over his jaw and lips, silencing him and the words his heart wanted to shout to the world.

'Love him,' it beat softly as the shackles were locked over his wrists, wrists that already bore welts and cuts from far less sophisticated shackles, welts and cuts that were hidden from prying eyes with strength gained from his time on Midgard. He could barely hide the pain that raced through him as his stasis spell failed and his magic was drained into the very core of his body.

* * *

Loki relished in his cell, in the quiet, in the complete enclosure that he could not escape from – for that meant he could not get in and find Loki. Loki relished in the safety of silence, in which he could merely listen to his heartbeat out the truth, that he loved Thor, that he would give up his own life, his freedom, to keep Thor safe.

No one came to see him, no healers, no guards, not even his 'mother' or 'father.' He sat on the rough floor of the cell, forehead pressed to aching knees and back arched in a way that somewhat reduced the strain on his flayed patch of skin, day after day, for so long that he lost track of time.

When Thor entered, Loki thought he had to be a delusion, a hallucination perhaps – for he was certain he had a raging fever. Thor took a loud, ear-throbbing step towards him and Loki stared up at him, mouth dry around the bit of the gag.

Thor reached a hand toward him, eyes blazing in the dimness of meager light, and Loki scrambled back towards the corner of his cell. He slammed himself against the wall, back sending painful twinges all through him, and pressed his face against his knees.

"Loki…" Thor said lowly, voice soft. "It is I, Thor, your brother."

There was only darkness around him now, his eyes blocked by his knees. Darkness only brought one thing to mind now, and Loki jumped, mind pulling back from the rocky world of sizzling flesh and the iron-tang of blood, when Thor's hand fell to his shoulder. The chains connecting him to the wall jangled loudly as he pulled away and Loki jerked again when the rough stone blocks behind him scraped along his back.

"Loki!" Thor exclaimed, hand tugging him forward, "Are you still hurt?"

Leveling a glare up at him through the dark, Loki rolled his eyes slowly and purposefully. Heaving out an exasperated sigh, Thor gripped his forearm, one that bore long, jagged cuts that had been given early on, and yanked him to his feet.

Loki could not help but whimper as the motion sent pain racing through every wound he bore and he squeezed his eyes shut, hoping Thor had not heard him when he did not have his silver tongue with which to lie. Thor gently released his arm and Loki knew that Thor had indeed heard.

Thor's hands were unbelievably gentle as he turned Loki slowly towards the wall and one hand moved to rest on his shoulder as the other gripped the hem of his tunic. Loki jerked in an attempt to escape his grasp and Thor squeezed ever-so-lightly in warning.

'Lovehimlovehimlovehim,' his heart clambered, loud and clear in his ears. He could feel the tug of the fabric from where it had dried to his back, the stain of the blood hidden by the black of the material. He clenched his teeth down painfully on the metal bit in his mouth when he felt Thor's fingertips brush over his back.

"Who…" Thor growled, hand now trembling on his shoulder. He shouted, "Who did this to you?" His hand lifted from Loki's back and slammed into the wall next to his face. Loki studied the fist with interest, imagining the bruising that would form and wondering how quickly it would heal for Thor.

Before his thoughts could move on, Loki was spun to face Thor again, his once-brother's gaze locked on his with anger clear in his eyes. "Answer me," he ordered, shaking Loki slightly.

Loki wondered if Thor had taken too many hits to the head as he shrugged his shoulders in a way he hoped conveyed, 'You idiot, I'm wearing a gag.' Thor's eyes narrowed slightly and then he barked out a short laugh. "Of course," he said, mirth clear in his tone, "I had forgotten." His hand shifted to Loki's chin, thumb stroking along the skin bordering the metal device.

Tipping his chin up, Loki slid his eyes shut as Thor's fingers revealed their deftness as he worked at the latches of the gag. He pulled it gently from Loki's face, finger slipping in between his lips to smoothly slide out the bit.

'He could be listening,' his mind hissed as he parted his dry lips. "Who did this?" Thor asked, hands moving to cup Loki's face.

Attempting to turn his head away, he listened to his heart shout, 'Lovehimlovehim' and his mind whisper, 'He could be listening' and Loki sighed. Thor's forehead pressed against his own and he stared at Thor's closed eyes. "It…" he croaked, watching Thor's eyes fly open and focus on him. He swallowed painfully, throat and mouth both dry, and finished, "I cannot say."

Thor's hands shook as he removed the chains from Loki's shackles and he began to pull Loki from the cell by one shackled wrist. Loki grimaced at the rotation of the metal against his sore wrist and Thor gave him one wary look before proceeding down the hallway.

"Thor," Loki began, voice still low and hoarse, "What are you doing?"

"I plan to speak with Father about this," he answered, striding down the dark hallway.

Loki jerked on his wrist, planting his feet firmly in the hall, and protested, "You cannot! Thor, mere wounds do not excuse what I have done." 'Lovehimlovehim!' 'He could be listening.'

Coming to a halt, Thor turned to face him and let out a long breath. "Loki, those are not mere wounds. You…it is evidence of torture."

Loki shook his head quickly. "Perhaps I…" he swallowed heavily, "Perhaps it was consensual."

Thor threw an exasperated look to the ceiling and gripped Loki by the bicep this time. "Come, your weak lies cannot fool me." He took several more steps before he stopped and turned back to Loki again. "I will leave you in my chambers. You need not come with me."

Remaining silent, Loki allowed Thor to parade him through the halls, which were more empty than usual to Loki's relief, and deposit him in his chambers. Thor latched the door and turned to study Loki, hands clasping into fists at his side. He shut his eyes and released another breath before raising his chin, meeting Loki's eyes, and ordering, "Remove your tunic." His eyes flickered away and back before he added, in a softer tone, "If you would, Loki."

Moving gingerly, Loki gripped the hem and slowly lifted it off and let it fall to the ground beside him. He stared at the tile floor beneath his feet as he listened to Thor step closer. He stiffly turned so his back was facing Thor and stared at the far wall of the chamber.

Thor let out a small noise as he stopped behind Loki, one finger moving up to brush down his back again. It slipped down towards his waist, pressing at a dark bruise, and Thor froze before asking, "This is not all?"

Biting his lip, Loki nodded hesitantly before straightening his spine. Even if he had lost his honor and dignity, he still had his pride. He would not shirk from anything Thor said or did.

Thor's hands pressed gently at his shoulders, pushing him towards the bed softly. Loki allowed himself to be moved, stepping in a way that hopefully disguised the gingerness of his movement. Loki was pushed down onto the soft bed and Thor knelt before him, hands falling to Loki's knees. "Why did you say nothing?" he asked, voice soft.

As Thor moved to remove Loki's boots, Loki turned his head to stare at the locked doors and drawled, "I do what I want. I owe you no explanation."

"The litany of our childhood," Thor replied, offering a small smile. Growing serious, he added, "But, I believe you owe me a good deal. If not for me, you would either be dead, or imprisoned, on Midgard or facing one of Father's more inventive punishments here." He turned his gaze to Loki's feet and let out a hiss. "What is this?" He peered at the sole of Loki's left foot, then that of the right. "How can you bear to stand?"

Glaring at him, Loki raised his chin and stated in his most regal tone, "We were both raised as Princes of Asgard. You know as well as I do. Besides, I always had the stronger pain tolerance."

Thor gave him a slightly sheepish look, gently dropping his foot, and then his gaze sharpened. "That is true. What then must the masters of the Chituari have used to force you, my proud brother, to do their will?"

Loki was rolled onto his stomach, feet placed on the bed, as he protested, "You speak as if I were but a puppet to their bidding."

The touch of calloused hands on his waist was unexpected and Thor shushed his flinch before beginning to tug at his trousers. "Were you not? Surely the cunning Loki could see Midgard would not remain your own after the army was victorious." His hands brushed down mark-heavy thighs, with welts from canes and weeping blade wounds abound.

"I – " Loki began, breath catching in his throat as the soft sweeps of Thor's hands over his tender flesh. 'Love him,' his heart reminded, all other whispers forgotten.

Thor gave him a soft pat as he stood, moving to the side table and fetching an apple. Loki stared at it as he approached, eyes widening and mouth watering at the remembrance of the sweet taste. He reached for it, shoulder protesting at the movement, but Thor caught his wrist gently and placed it back on the bed. Kneeling back down, Thor unsheathed a small knife and began to slice the golden fruit.

He placed a slice to Loki's lips, applying slight pressure until Loki opened his mouth and took in the fruit. Thor watched him intently as he chewed and swallowed, then commented, "They wanted information then; your mouth is unharmed."

Loki allowed him to place another slice in his mouth as he held his silence, willing to listen to Thor's musings instead of offering any information. Thor cocked an eyebrow at him before giving him another piece. "Surely I have stumbled upon your secret, for the Loki I know would be spinning tales and describing how his wits fooled the enemy into doing his bidding."

Feeling the apple's power struggling to heal him with his minute internal supply of magic, Loki pillowed his head on his forearms and closed his eyes. "Good," Thor declared, "You shall rest and I will speak to Father."

Loki ignored him, listening instead to the reassuring beat of his heart. He waited long moments as Thor rose and remained silent for a time, before moving across the room and locking the door shut with the soft clink of the key in the lock.

When the room was silent beyond his breath and the sound of his pulse, Loki slit his eyes open and breathed, "I love Thor." Sparks flew from his fingertips as he considered a spell he had once devised to keep his secret locked away, but Loki instead pushed the energy towards healing himself.

* * *

Thor returned with a loud clatter and the thumping of boots being dropped. Loki slit his eyes open, sleep tugging at his consciousness, and watched the other man make his way across the room. "You were magnificent," he said slowly, eyes fixed on Thor's golden presence, "In battle."

"Until a well-placed dagger caused me to flounder?" Thor teased, approaching the bed and studying Loki's back.

"Even then," Loki replied, shifting until Thor's soft touch. "I have always enjoyed fighting with you."

Thor knelt again next to him and said, "Beside me, not against me."

Eyes sliding shut, Loki shrugged his pained shoulders slightly, "Both."

He was sure he imagined the press of lips to his forehead as the steady thrum of his heartbeat escorted him back to sleep.

* * *

When Loki was brought before Odin, he was not sure if he should be pleased or worried that the hall was empty but for him, Thor, and the All-Father. He was studied in silence by the fierce gaze of one eye until Odin finally sat back and spoke. "You cannot heal without your magic. Even now, infection is spring up in those wounds you so cleverly hid. Do you think I should trust you enough to release your magic?"

Loki looked at Thor through the corner of his eye, mouth slowly opening to reply, "I believe such a choice is entirely up to you, All-Father."

There was a long pause of silence in which Loki barely managed to hold his gaze steady. Odin frowned slightly and mused aloud, "You refuse to answer my question. Perhaps this one then: what was it that forced you to do another's bidding?"

Feeling the harsh stare on him even as he glanced over at Thor, all sounds in the room faded until he could only hear his heart racing in his ears. 'Lovehimlovehimlovehimlovehim.'

"Was it a threat against your life?"

'Lovehimlovehim.'

"No, surely you could trick your way out of any such trap. A threat against another then?"

'Lovehimlo-lovehim,' his heart stuttered.

"Loki," Odin probed, voice almost kind. Loki looked back up at him and saw the single eye appeared to be watering. "No matter what it was, you have been treated cruelly. I will release you from the shackles unless you prove yourself unworthy of such trust. Thor, you will monitor his healing?"

Thor stepped forward slightly at Loki's side. "Of course, Father," he agreed, voice as eager as if he was a child again. He reached towards Loki's wrists, pulling a key from his belt – obviously he knew the outcome of this 'hearing' already – and dropping the shackles to the tile flooring. Gripping Loki's palm tightly, Thor lead him from the throne chamber into an empty hallway.

Loki listened to his heart thud in his ears and felt his magic return, already beginning to sear the infection from his wounds. He watched Thor's strong figure before him as they moved down the hallway and was…content.

* * *

It was weeks before he was fully healed, wounds that had festered for so long they had become scars rather than unmarked flesh once again; weeks that were filled with time spent in isolation in his chambers, isolation broken only by Thor's bright presence at random times.

There was still a lingering soreness in his joints, in his spine, a soreness he suspected would always remain as a reminder of his foolishness, his arrogance.

He sat one evening in his chambers, lounging across his bed as he read an especially old tome and rubbing at a stiff shoulder. There was a knock on the door, and, before he could speak, Thor burst into the room, smiling.

The other man shut the door behind himself, smile fixed on his face as he turned. He faltered slightly when he noticed Loki's hand on his shoulder. "Are you in pain?" he asked, approaching the bed.

Loki shrugged, hiding a wince, and shut the tome. He began to sit up, but halted when Thor held out a staying hand. "Roll over," he instructed, "Any warrior worth his mettle can give a good backrub."

Flopping onto his stomach, Loki held his breath as Thor settled over his back, straddling his thighs, and placed his hands on his shoulders. "Your back is healed," Thor commented.

Loki inclined his head slightly, "It has scarred well enough."

"I believe you have finally won our adolescent contest of most impressive scar," the man commented as he began to apply pressure to Loki's back. Loki sighed into the force and pressed his cheek into the mattress. "I…" Thor began, tone so full of guilt Loki could already imagine what he would say.

"Worry not, Thor. I had attempted to kill you and the All-Father; there was no reason for you to come looking for me when I fell." He attempted to keep levity in his tone, but suspected he failed when Thor's hand slowed on his back.

Thor sighed softly against his neck, "I still regret such a thing happened to you."

Loki sighed in reply and admitted, "If it had been you to do such a thing, it would have been all the more painful."

The hands on his back slowed again, before increasing speed and force to a proper rub. Loki relaxed under the ministrations and nearly groaned in pleasure when Thor began forcing knots out of his stiff muscles.

Thor continued until Loki was half-asleep, and in his relaxation, he worked up the courage to ask, "Does your heart ever speak to you?"

Warmed hands moved upwards to frame his neck. "Does yours?"

"Perhaps," Loki replied, arching his back to feel the press of Thor along his legs and ass.

Thor seated himself more soundly, muscles flexing against Loki, and said, "Perhaps mine does as well." He leaned forward, one hand forcing Loki's neck down further and the other stroking at his fresh scar. Lips brushing against Loki's ear, he added, "It tells me secrets."

Loki breathed in sharply under Thor's hold and tilted his head so Thor's lips touched him fully. "What exactly does it say?"

He could feel the smile against his skin as Thor answered, "It tells me what yours tells you." He pressed a kiss to Loki's cheek.

Loki controlled his reflexive twitch and turned it, instead, into a roll that pushed himself all along Thor. Thor made a clucking sound with his tongue and shoved down, locking feet around Loki's calves and arms on his shoulders until he could no longer move. "So then, Loki," he stated, nose brushing the hair at Loki's neck, "Tell me what yours tells you."

'Lovehimlovehim,' his heart chanted, loud enough Loki suspected Thor already knew.

He opened his mouth and spoke.

* * *

Thanks for reading! Reviews always appreciated!

Disclaimer: Hopefully obvious none of the movie's/comic's/anything's plot or characters actually belong to me


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